


Devotion

by IWriteSinsAndTragedies



Category: Powerpuff Girls
Genre: Abuse, Close Calls, F/M, Hypnotism, M/M, Manipulation, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Unhealthy Relationships, Why Did I Write This?, luck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:20:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25869559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWriteSinsAndTragedies/pseuds/IWriteSinsAndTragedies
Summary: Inky eyes stared unblinkingly."Do you know your sins?"..."No words escaped their mouth.
Relationships: HIM/Gender Neutral Reader, HIM/Reader
Comments: 12
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah uhh... I don't really have anything to say for myself. This is my first work on here and there will be more to come.

He takes your hands in his crab claws leaning in close, his small goatee tickling your face. His breath runs across your skin, sending jolts like a million tiny fireworks through your body. You gasp in shock. Him is all you have ever wanted, all you have ever needed. You are ready for him.

He lets out a light chuckle. "Are you ready, y/n?"  
You nod and bite your lip, eyes filled with need. His laugh echoes through the almost empty room. 

"Darling... say you want it." 

You huff. "I want it. I want you!" 

He then reaches his crab claws up and cuts off your head. He takes it as a trophy to hang over his fireplace. In hell, your ghost watches in horror as he places the head at the middle of the mantle, surrounded by skulls of blond, brown and black. You were special. You would be his last. His little prince(ss).

Your ghost floats closer, watching with eyes filled with sadness. "We were supposed to spend eternity together!" You cried.

“Oh, darling… but we will spend eternity together:” Him purrs as he grabs you from behind. His tongue swipes across your cheek, warm breath forcing your face to flush.

He waves his claw; for a few seconds, nothing happens, and you blink in confusion. But then, a soft creak and the jangle of chains grows closer. Closer. Closer. They wrap around your limbs, immobilising you. You let out a shriek as they slam your ghostly figure into the ground, torn from Him's arms.

Him's laugh echoes as he binds you to the floor. "Darling, it's time to start the ritual.."  
Tears stream down your face as you shake your head and plead to be free. "N-no! Him, I d-don't want th-this!"  
Him narrows his eyes and clicks his claws. The chains, following his command, cover your mouth. Snot, drool, and tears puddle on the floor underneath your head.  
Him sneers as he looks at you. "My, my darling. You look so pitiful..." His voice takes on a sharp edge. "It's just what I like."

You wriggle like the pathetic worm you are as Him chants in a language unknown to you. The words you cannot comprehend, oh they send shivers down your spine. As the chant picks up speed, various voices join in, forming a hivemind of noise buzzing in your brain.

Who are these people? Are they even people anymore? Or are they those lost to time, doomed to burn for their crimes? Demons, devils, creatures of hell? You don't know. You always knew. Confusion. You are confused.

But that is wrong, wrong, wrong. You are supposed to know. You know that you knew. Knew how to escape. Knew what was going on. Knew this godforsaken ritual. Ritual? Why was there a ritual? You are a ghost. You need to stay a ghost. You don't want to come back. 

"Please," you beg. "Not again, I don't want to come back again..."

Him and the voices ignore your cries. The chants rise and fall, cracking and crawling through your very being. You begin to convulse once again. Again? Again. It was happening again.

The chains burnt through you, binding your soul to the one holding them. To Him.

A soft echo-ey voice fills your ears as you blink. It is dark. So, so dark. You are afraid, but he is there, he takes your hands in his. Soft flesh against his red crabby claws. Flesh? Why was there flesh? Weren’t you dead?

"I - I just had the weirdest dream," you mumble to Him.

"Oh, do tell," Him purrs. 

"I. I don't know," you say, locking eyes with Him. "I don't remember." 

Him taps his chin with his claw, and for a second, a dark something flashes through his eyes. You wince and pull your hands back. Him frowns before retaking your hands. You blush as you let an apology fall from your lips. "I'm -I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me..."

Him smiles, his toothy grin stretched across his cheeks. "It's quite alright, darling..." The smile falls from his face. "I was worried..." 

You gasp as you see the sad expression on his handsome face.

"What's wrong? Why are you worried?" You bite your lip. "Did I worry you?" 

Him gives a small, sad smile at your questioning. "I was worried," he starts, "that you would leave me." 

A surprised expression appears on your face. "I would never leave you!" You promise.

Him's eyes flick up to meet yours. "Is that a promise?" He mumbles. 

"Of course it is," you assure Him, a soft smile on your face. Looking into his eyes, you don't see the smooth white lines move to your palms, connecting to Him's inky black ones, sealing the promise for all of eternity.

Him's smile changes, a feral look appearing in his eyes. "I was waiting for you to say that, darling." 

You are pulled forwards into his embrace. His nose pressing against the underside of your chin, he breathes in deeply, inhaling your sweet scent. His soft chapped lips press into your neck repeatedly as he leaves butterfly kisses against the skin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, a new chapter will be out once every two weeks or so, sometimes I may post an extra chapter here and there if I feel like it. :)
> 
> Enjoy!

You wake with a start; crying out as your eyes shoot open, a choked sob tearing its way through you. Your hand. It is stretched out above the silky sheets, reaching for something that is not there. You bring your hands to your chest, clutching at the soft nightdress you don’t remember changing into. It is strange. Very, very strange. But yet, it brings a sense of comfort.

You blink as you sit up in the large heart-shaped bed. Your eyebrows scrunch together as you attempt to remember what happened before you fell asleep - it is difficult to recall the events that led to you being in this strange room, to being in what you assume is a strangers bed. 

Your eyes come into focus, staring at the light pink ornaments on a dark pink shelf hung on the pastel pink walls. A small hum leaving your lips as you glance around the rest of the room filled with different shades of pinks and purples. 

Your captor? Was this a kidnapping?

‘They must really like pink.’ 

You snort at the thought. Despite the palette, everything in the room seems to be expensive and high quality. You slide to the edge of the bed and with your hands in your lap, clutching at the frilly trim of the nightdress. You stare at the fluffy pink carpeted flooring. What the fuck. Why does your kidnapper have such terrible taste? Pink, pink, pink, purple, pink. It’s all fucking pink.

You pause with the realisation. Kidnapper. You have been kidnapped. Why are you judging the decor when you could be escaping? With that thought, you toss off the sheets and step onto the pink monstrosity. You hurriedly tiptoe towards the lilac double doors and grab the handle, tugging them open. It’s a closet. Of course, that’s just what you need. You almost slam the doors closed, a distressed whine slipping from your lips.

Turning from the closet doors, your eyes flick around the room, eventually landing on the large cherry wooden door. You have no idea how you missed it the first time, but you quietly walk over with your eyes glued to the deep red door knocker. You wonder how this person can stand their own terrible colour scheme. 

Eyeing the door knocker you slowly reach out towards it, giving it a quick poke before pulling your hand to your chest. You look at the tip of your finger and see no change. You don’t really know what you expected. Maybe some sort of trap? Or even a lock? This kidnapper is clearly an amateur. After berating their poor skills in your mind, you casually grip the knocker and pull back. The door doesn’t budge. A quiet chuckle - the door must be heavy then. You pull again with more force behind the action this time. No movement. Again and again, but still, no movement. With panic creeping up your throat you begin to tug desperately. Tears welling up beneath your eyes, you pause. With a shaky hand, you wipe them away and take several seconds to even your breathing.

Carefully you brush your fingers against the wood, hands coming together at the centre. You take a deep breath before pushing forwards. Once again, the door doesn’t budge. You tug at your hair and rest your head against the wood, eyes closed.

Click, click, click. The muffled sound of footsteps comes through the door. You take a step back and your head snaps up, eyes blown wide. You look around. Where? Where? Where? The closet! Seconds pass. Your hand grasps the doors. Slipping inside, you pant. The doors close with a quiet click.

With sweaty palms, you push past rows upon rows of frilly red, pink and purple outfits. Taking deep breaths to calm your racing heart, you wonder how one person could need this many clothes. A grunt leaves your lips as you trip over a black thigh-high boot with spiked heels. Muffled curses followed from the carpet. Instead of getting to your feet and continuing to hide, you lay on the ground. 

A few seconds pass and a dull thud causes you to roll onto your back. It came from outside the closet…

“Uh oh,” you mumble.

Jumping to your feet you sprint further into the racks of clothes, desperately searching for an exit. Are they close? Have they seen you? In your panic you cause several racks to collapse, unknowingly leaving a trail to your location. Exit, exit. Where is the exit? As the clothes pile up behind you, you realise the thudding from outside has stopped.

Knowing that it couldn’t be good, tears once again rise to the surface. Through your teary vision, you fail to notice the simple white door in the wall. You come to a stop three racks from the door and slump to the ground, palms pressed to your face. Tears and deep breaths. The panic has not stopped; if anything, it has increased. As you attempt to get your breathing under control, you hear a faint dragging noise. It seems quite quiet. 

Why? Why are you here, In a closet of all places? This is ridiculous. A hysterical laugh builds in your throat, but you choke it down. Your hands slide from your eyes to your mouth. Terrified, you muffle the sounds of your breath, one hand clasped on top of the other.

An echoey chuckle spreads through the room as the dragging noise continues. Closer. Closer. Closer. And then, straight passed.


End file.
